


Undercover Santa

by Shut_Up_Marius



Category: The Rookie (TV 2018)
Genre: Case Fic, Christmas fic, F/M, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:14:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28069116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shut_Up_Marius/pseuds/Shut_Up_Marius
Summary: "For this particular assignment, I had to volunteer the person I thought would look best in a white beard, and another who would do a set of pointy ears justice." The second Grey's eyes alighted on him, Tim's blood ran cold. Oh, hell no. "Officer Bradford, Officer Chen, congratulations: you are officially Santa Claus and Santa's little helper."
Relationships: Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen
Comments: 24
Kudos: 110





	Undercover Santa

**Author's Note:**

> Be warned: this fic requires some suspension of disbelief. Not sure they would be assigned a case like this, not sure how mall Santas work (but they have all my admiration and sympathy), not sure there's a mall at all in Mid-Wilshire... You get the point.  
> Thank you to jk_rockin for reading this over like the good friend she is!

"Everyone take your place, thank you," Sergeant Grey called out when he entered the roll call room. 

The few officers who were still mingling sat down and by the time he had everybody's attention, he'd turned on the flat screen. Tim recognized the mugshot right away. That guy had been grating on his nerves for weeks, now, an honest-to-God eel for how slippery the jackass was.

Sergeant Grey flicked through various pictures.

"I trust you all remember our man Pete Sullivan, 22: until last month, a simple pickpocket, if a pretty active one with a knack for disappearing under our very noses. Last week, things got more violent as we got reports of him assaulting more vulnerable people: single women, older people, disabled people, you name it. After a quick background check, it didn't take very long to figure out the guy's in deep financial trouble and is therefore growing more desperate for money. Footage courtesy of Wilshire shopping center. The reason he's been more active around and in that mall is obvious: 'tis the season and people are living the capitalist dream."

"Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown."

"Yes, thank you, Smitty. The assignment is as follows: the shopping center's in over their heads and requested our help, so we're sending two officers undercover to take Pete into custody before he screws up and somebody gets seriously hurt."

"I do need to get started on my Christmas shopping," Lopez piped up next to Tim.

"Not this time, Officer Lopez," Grey replied. "For this particular assignment, I had to volunteer the person I thought would look best in a white beard, and another who would do a set of pointy ears justice." The second Grey's eyes alighted on him, Tim's blood ran cold. Oh, hell no. "Officer Bradford, Officer Chen, congratulations: you are officially Santa Claus and Santa's little helper."

The room erupted into cheers and applause around him. The only other person who didn't seem to find this hilarious was his boot; Chen spun so fast in her chair it was a miracle she didn't fall off. She looked like a betrayed deer caught in headlights, her big brown eyes wide and panicked.

"Sarge, surely there are people more suited for the job," Tim said, making a very convincing argument. "Nolan's a million years old-"

"Hey!" A glare shut him up and he held his hands up. "I'm only like, five years older than you," he muttered petulantly.

"Officer Bradford, surely you're not discussing a direct order?" Grey challenged him, crossing his arms. 

"Yeah, Bradford," Harper riled from his other side, "what's the matter? Red not your color?"

"Sir, with all due respect, you're going to put me in the middle of dozens of children?"

"I trust you will represent the LAPD and this department honorably and put those outstanding people's skills of yours to good use."

Tim hesitated, he really did. His entire body balked at the idea of putting on that suit and having it dangled in his face for the rest of his career at this precinct. Hell, he wasn't even wearing it yet and the taunting had already started.

What of his image as training officer? Surely Chen would lose all respect for him after this. Being a cop wasn't all about posturing and appearance, but a guy dressed as Santa just didn't invoke the same natural respect as one who wore a cop uniform. And unless her costume was worse than his, Chen would mock him, too, he knew that; she just wasn't as scared of him as she ought to have been. 

"So what will it be?" Grey demanded.

"Of course, Sir. Whatever needs to be done to arrest that guy." He felt the muscles in his cheeks move as a new wave of applause broke out. He wondered if he managed to pass it off as a convincing smile; he'd been told he could look downright creepy when he tried too hard.

"Good. You will of course have a back-up team outside in case that's where Sullivan acts up today."

"Sergeant Grey," Chen frowned, "I think Officer Bradford and I would do good on the back-up team as well."

"Is questioning your higher-ups something your T.O's been teaching you, Officer Chen?"

"Of course not, Sir," she replied so fast it was almost one word.

She shot Tim a helpless look. He wasn't going to berate her for trying to get them out of that stupid mission, and Grey knew Tim would never shape his rookie into a rogue, rebellious agent. He merely encouraged her to keep on thinking for herself, with better cop eyes.

"In that case, your uniforms for the foreseeable future are in your respective locker rooms. Chief of security is expecting you in his office at the mall in an hour, so hurry up. No need to remind you the faster you catch Sullivan, the faster it's over. Dismissed."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Tim waited for Chen outside of her locker room, the distance between him and the door respectable enough that he wouldn't look like a pervert standing outside the ladies' changing rooms.

He was pissed off and cranky and she was taking forever. He'd tell her off when she came out, it'd help him blow off some steam. His boot seemed about as thrilled as him but it didn't give her a reason to procrastinate. Like the sergeant had said, the sooner they got started, the sooner that practical joke could end.

The door handle finally rattled and Chen came out.

"What the hell are you wearing?" he asked incredulously. 

His eyes ran over her body. God, that color scheme hurt to look at: lime green and orange, really? Were Santa's elves color blind or something? The colors were bad, but the shape wasn't much better: while it didn't show cleavage and the hem almost reached down to Chen's knee, the way it molded her body was not family-friendly. He got the inexplicable urge to get her out of here fast. Probably to save his coworkers: her striped hose had him on the edge of an epileptic seizure: orange, green, orange, green, all the way up her legs - it was a lot.

"What do you mean?" she stammered, the bells on her orange pointy shoes jingling as she talked. That was going to be annoying as hell. "Why aren't you wearing your costume?"

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, holding out the bag that contained his Santa attire. "We were supposed to change at the mall."

"Oh. Should I-"

"Nevermind, let's go. We're catching that guy today, I'm not wearing that costume two days in a row."

"Yes, Sir."

They took precisely three steps. "Okay, take off those shoes."

"Sir?"

"That sound makes me want to bash my head against a wall." She hesitated. "I will take them off you myself if you don't do it now," he bit out.

Chen pinched her lips and complied, her grudge written in every line of her body, until she stood back up, obviously unhappy. The braid she'd tied her hair in wound around her neck - no wonder this had taken forever. He hid the smile that threatened to break out on his face.

"There."

"Good. Now we can go… Nice pointy ears, Boot."

Chen silently accepted the joke.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Okay, run this by me again, Boot," he ordered as he changed into his suit. He might as well make those few minutes count for something.

"Again?!" 

He grinned to himself; he kind of relished the agonized reply, if he was honest. Messing with Chen was always a lot of fun. He could just imagine her face on the other side of that door, eyes open wide with surprise, lips parted.

"Is there a problem with that?"

"No, Sir, it's just- it's the third time you've made me repeat exactly how this operation's set up. I was there when the chief of security briefed us. I didn't suddenly get dumber just because I'm wearing an elf costume," she told him. "Just like you didn't get nicer just because you're Santa," she grumbled.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

He didn't dignify that with a response, mostly because he didn't want to lay into her for disrespecting her training officer - not when she was mostly right. Today was going to be hell, the clothes were already making him itchy and he'd have to look at his rookie wearing that damn costume until they caught that bastard.

"You're not going to be wearing an earpiece because of the fake ears, and you'll be unarmed, so you need to know precisely what the plan is in case our guy pulls a runner and you have to chase him on foot."

Tim adjusted the wig, the beard, the hat, and plugged his own earpiece in. The wig would hide it, and the mic was hidden underneath the hat's hem. He'd be in contact with their colleagues, but it honestly felt more like a curse than a blessing considering he'd have to listen to their ribbing all freaking day long. He hoped Pete was an early-riser.

Chen summed up the mission in bullet points (three units of officers in plain clothes strategically placed outside every point of entry, little to no help from the shopping center’s security), so efficient he only had time to pull on his boots before she was done.

"In a nutshell, we're pretty much on our own, here," she concluded, her voice wavering a little. He easily picked up on the trepidation. 

"Is that going to be a problem, Boot?"

There was a beat of silence. "I'm-" she hesitated. Second-guessing everything wasn't exactly out of character for her but he hadn't expected anything but a resounding "no, Sir" here.

"What is it?"

"I'm worried about the children."

He raised his eyebrows, half offended. "Afraid I’ll scar them for life?"

"What? No, of course not!" she exclaimed. "I know you're going to be great, I'm sure kids love you! It's just, if things go south, I'm concerned they'll be caught in the crossfire. Things could go wrong really fast-"

"And it's our job to make sure that doesn't happen," he interrupted her spiral, steel in his voice.

Maybe this would be a good opportunity for her to learn something, in the end; the risks weren't greater than for any call they answered in the shop, but the mindset was different when you knew the number of casualties could reach staggering proportions. Maybe that operation wouldn't be a complete disaster.

His phone beeped and lit up with Lopez's name. He glanced at the text message and chuckled.

_I will get a picture of you in that suit before the day’s over._

_Aw, you do still believe in Santa, that’s cute._

Then he stepped out of the changing room.

He saw Chen's amused smile before she managed to cover it up with her hand, and he scowled. This was going to be a catastrophe. Her hand wasn't big enough, he could see the edges of her mouth stretching up, up, up, delight written plain on her whole face.

He was on the verge of a good tongue-lashing when the tiniest little laugh made it past her teeth. Her entire body shook with it.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she charged ahead, except she looked anything but. "It's just, you're trying to stare me down, that's very Officer Bradford of you, but the overall effect… it's just not the same with the belly."

"Are you mocking your superior, Boot?" he asked, his words infused with a warning. He did drop his hands, though, and resisted the urge to cross his arms over his chest. He knew this would happen.

"Of course not, Sir, I would never."

"Good, because I'm still the person who's writing your evaluation."

"Absolutely, Sir." He pointedly didn't remark on the spark of amusement that lit up her brown eyes.

"Now let's go, our shift starts in ten and we have to make it to the food court."

It was the mall’s busiest place and the best for Sullivan to look for his next victim: people were milling about after their shopping, impeded by arms full of bags, easy to throw off-balance with a brutal shake. It also provided a great vantage point for them to wait him out.

"To the Christmas Wonderland, you mean?"

He rolled his eyes and occupied himself connecting with the three units that sat in unmarked cars outside. "Harper, do you copy?"

"Loud and clear. Lopez and West will be coming in four hours from now."

"Copy that.”

"Did you get Lopez’s text?” Tim made a non-commital noise at the back of his throat. "I hear Chen’s looking good in her costume, too."

He gave her a quick once-over. "You know Chen was either going to be a cop or one of Santa's little helpers for a career, she's so damn bouncy and chipper all the time."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Chen said, raising her chin at the same time Harper replied in his ear, "that's not what I asked."

Tim knew damn well what she was asking. That's why he didn't answer.

"What's going on?" Chen asked.

"Harper wants to know how you look in your costume," he groused.

"Oh!" she perked up, her smile digging dimples in her cheeks. "How do I look?"

"Painfully orange," he deadpanned, only to immediately feel bad when she visibly deflated. "You're not the one with the bad costume here, Boot," he grudgingly conceded. There, now she was smiling again. "Okay, we're entering the mall proper."

There was a direct parallel to draw between the seven circles of Hell and a mall at Christmas time. Tim wasn't a man of many possessions, and even though he sometimes indulged in the finer things life had to offer, like a good entertainment system, his house was spartanly furnished and he rarely set foot in a place like this.

The hustle and bustle felt more frantic than usual, the chirpy festive music that played over the intercoms in complete contrast to the often belligerent looks he observed. These people were not here to enjoy the Christmas spirit. They had essentially entered a warzone where the crowd had the potential to turn into a mob. 

At least it was too loud for him to hear the jingling bells on Chen's shoes.

"You look like a cop in a Santa costume," Chen remarked.

"That's exactly what I am."

"It's not what you want people to see, though. Wave over there!" she instructed cheerfully when she heard the excited "look, mommy, it's Santa!" he'd fully intended on ignoring.

Hell. The deepest, most excruciating circle of Hell.

Tim waved. This was going to be a long day.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

He refrained from cursing when he saw the impressive line that awaited him. He waved some more as he sat down, the movement rigid and unnatural while Chen excitedly greeted the throng of people gathered at the gates of the so-called Christmas Wonderland.

It was nothing but a cluster of garish decorations, glitter sprinkled all over a white carpet that was supposed to pass for snow. Garlands of lights twinkled all over the place, covering the fake presents that surrounded the pedestal Santa's chair stood on (was it a throne, was Santa royalty?) smack dab in the middle of their workspace. The thirty-feet tall Christmas tree made out of huge, gaudy baubles that towered over them was the last touch to a horrid, seizure-inducing décor.

Tim absurdly found himself thinking the small picket fence that surrounded the so-called wonderland would be a weak protection if the crowd decided to attack.

"Cop eyes, Chen," he reminded her as he sat down.

"Yes, Santa." His eyes snapped up to her. "What? I can't be calling you Sir, Santa's elves don't call him Sir!"

"And how would you know that? Maybe Santa's elves show Santa some respect."

"Well, you should call me Lucy. I'm sure Santa Claus isn’t so uptight that he’d call his elves by their last names."

“Upt-?!” he started choking.

"Relax, Tim," Harper drawled in his ear. "You're undercover, act like it."

"She needs to be on the ball," he murmured while Che-, while _Lucy_ greeted their first petitioner of the day, a little boy with shaggy blonde hair and a smile that was more holes than teeth.

"Just because she doesn't act like Rambo doesn't mean she's not ready," Harper added. This was a conspiracy. "Aren't you her training officer?" He grumbled. "Then she'll be fine."

"That food court is huge and overcrowded, it'll be a miracle if we can spot Sullivan. There's no way- hey there, son!" he cut himself off when the little boy clambered up on his lap. Right, he'd forgotten about that part. "What's your name?"

"I'm Daniel," he frowned, shaking his hair out of his green eyes. "What happened to your voice?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, mirroring the kid's expression.

"You don't sound like Santa."

Tim cursed himself. Nice, he was blowing his cover not two minutes into the mission, all because he didn't think about faking a stupid voice. 

"Oh, that's because Santa's got a bit of a sore throat," Chen jumped in with a cheerful smile. "You know how our voice changes when we're sick? Well, Santa lives in the North Pole where some things are different, and he spent too long checking on his reindeers yesterday and he caught a little cold, so his voice got less deep."

The kid looked at him dubiously. Tim made a show of clearing his throat and hitting his chest with a closed fist. When the rumbling noise settled down and Daniel was giggling from being jostled around, he stopped.

"How about now, do I sound more like myself?" he asked, his voice closer to Santa's famous baritone. The little boy nodded. "Good. Now tell me what you want for Christmas."

The laughter in his earpiece was hard to ignore, but when he looked up to see if Chen was joining in on the mockery, he found her beaming with pride instead. Tim completely missed Daniel's Christmas wish list.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Things got hectic after that, child after child sitting on Tim's lap to tell him all about why they deserved to be on the Nice list and not on the Naughty one. Mostly his eyes scanned his surroundings, much like Lucy's were while he pretended to listen, interjecting when there was a blank in the children's monologues.

No sign of Sullivan in the perimeter, and neither Harper nor Nolan reported any suspicious activity. It would be just their luck if Sullivan had decided to take a day off.

It was about a hundred degrees under that stupid suit, too. Tim highly suspected foul play when it had been ordered. The wig made him want to scratch his scalp off and the fake mustache kept on riding up and tickling his nostrils. It was unbearable. If he'd been anyone else, it would have been distracting, but there was no point dwelling on something he couldn't change.

Nevertheless...

"Still nothing out there?" he asked between two customers. He couldn't quite smother the begging tone in his voice.

"Sorry, Sir,” Nolan’s voice answered. The other two units could only second his statement.

Tim noticed Lucy was staring at him, a question in her eyes. He discreetly shook his head and saw her shoulders drop before she turned to another cranky parent. For a second there as he watched her fake cheerfulness, he wondered if he didn't have the best end of the deal; at least he only had to tune out while the kids talked and he was free to do his job. Chen had to maintain conversations, look inconspicuous and evaluate her environment over and over again, all at the same time... and she was doing just fine. He was proud of her.

She was starting to come into her own as a cop, and a damn good one thanks to him. Well, partly thanks to him anyway; she’d been pretty proficient to start with. He was glad she would be his last boot. Going out with a bang and all that. Truthfully, he had no idea how he would’ve handled the next cop to come along if they hadn't shown the same level of competency: he’d set very high standards. 

"Santa," Chen addressed him as she climbed the couple of steps to his dais. She had a gangly boy with her, probably about 9 or 10, who looked somewhere between deep aggravation and complete boredom. "This is Michael, and he is not happy to be here. I'll leave you two to it."

"I'm not sitting in your lap," the kid laid down right away.

"Michael!" a shrill voice called from the fence. "Sit in Santa's lap, I want a picture for your grandmother!"

Tim waited as the kid whined a long "But Mom" that proved ineffectual, even coupled with an impressive eye roll, and he soon found himself with a lapful of petulant, pouting Michael. He felt a deep sense of kinship with the kid.

"I know you're not Santa."

"Oh, good! Means I don't have to bother with the voice." The boy looked surprised he would admit to it. "There's no point in lying if the cat's already out of the bag. How old are you?"

"Too old for this."

Tim scoffed. "Yeah, you and me both, man. So there's nothing you want to ask Santa for Christmas, do you already know what you're getting?"

"A framed picture of this stupid photo-op, probably," he grumbled.

Tim couldn't help but laugh. Then he remembered they had an audience and switched to a booming Santa laugh. Michael looked at him like he'd lost it.

"For your mom's benefit," he explained. "You know the sooner you give her a smile, the sooner you're out of here, right?" More pouting, more eye rolling. "Come on, give her a great big one, it's all it's going to take."

"Fine," Michael grumped before twisting towards the fence with the fakest smile Tim had ever seen. "Look, Mom!"

He could hear the kid's mother cooing as she took dozens of photos, her body angled so far over the fence it was a miracle she didn't fall over. The manic enthusiasm seemed to freak out even Chen, if the wide-eyed look she shot him was any indication.

"You're adorable, sweetie!"

"Mom!" Michael whined again, going beet-red.

Tim bit his laugh back. "Okay, I think we're good," he said. Michael shot upright. "Do I even wish you a merry Christmas?"

The kid seemed to think about it, then shrugged. "Why not. It's tradition."

"Okay, merry Christmas, then, Michael."

"You, too, Weird Mall Santa."

He couldn't hold back his laughter this time, but at least it made Michael smile. When he looked at Lucy, she was smiling, too.

"For the record," Harper's voice simpered in his ear, "you'll be Weird Mall Santa for the rest of your career."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Sir, if you don't mind me saying, you're really good with kids," Nolan piped up in his earpiece while he was between two children.

"You sound surprised, are you saying I'm not good with people, Boot?"

"What?! No! That's not-"

"Relax, he's messing with you," Harper said, placating. She always had to ruin Tim's fun.

"Santa?" His eyes stopped scanning the food court to land on his rookie. She was alone, though. "It's time for our ten-minute break," she announced like she was very pleased to be giving him the news. He wouldn't lie, he'd been looking forward to the reprieve.

"Thank God. Let's go get some coffee."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"So," Chen started with a playful little smile she tried to hide it behind her coffee. He saw right through her. If it hadn't been the smile, her eyes would've given her away, alight with mischief as they were.

They were sitting in a more secluded place - or, well, as secluded as a mall's food court could get, Chen's legs up on the bench to relieve her aching feet. While the position would delay her response time, Tim was satisfied to note she'd angled herself to have a good view of the bustling crowd - on break, but not really. A good cop. First thing she'd asked when they'd been alone? A report on Harper and Nolan's stakeout. A damn good cop.

"I had a lot of interesting conversations this morning," she went on, purposely mysterious.

"Well, I didn't," he huffed. He wouldn't bite. 

"You talked to a lot of those kids, I could hear you."

"Some of them were barely coherent."

"And you did your best to put them at ease," she countered easily. "Face it, you're a good Santa."

"Where are you going with this, Boo-" he caught himself just in time, drawing another smile from her. "Where are you going with this?"

"Well, I wasn't the only one who noticed," she said, a wicked twinkle in her eye. "Let's just say you were a bit of a hit with my side of the line." He stared at her. "Some of the moms asked me for Sexy Santa's phone number."

He rolled his eyes, both at her and at Harper's dry laughter in his earpiece. "They could only see half of my face."

Lucy cocked her head to the side, biting her lower lip as she studied him. "They could see your eyes. I'd say it's enough."

Her serious tone, coupled with the intense way she looked at him, sent an unwelcome little thrill down Tim’s spine. One he squashed right away, his eyes sliding back to the food court. Cop eyes.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"This little lady here is Stella," Chen informed him as she helped the little girl up the couple of steps to his chair. She couldn’t have been more than five and Tim sincerely hoped this one would at least talk to him instead of sitting here and looking terrified. Chen picked Stella up under her armpits and deposited her on Tim's knee. "You two have fun," she added with a little boop to Stella's nose.

"Hey there, Stella. Have you been nice this year?"

So far, that one had sent the kids into detailed rants, so when all he got was a quiet "I think so," he turned his focus on the little girl in his lap. Her pale blue eyes were too grave and way too sad for a child who was meeting Santa Claus. 

"What do you want for Christmas, Stella?"

"A gun."

Lucy twitched from her position by the fence, quickly looking over at him before she caught herself and spun back towards Stella's mom, who didn't seem to have heard. Tim's blood curdled in his veins. Sure, some kids had asked for rifles and BB guns and paintball gear - one had even asked for throwing stars - but Stella didn't sound half as enthusiastic as they had. Presents should make you happy; there wasn't a lot of happy in Stella's voice.

"And what do you need a gun for, mmh?" Staying in character was really goddamn hard.

"I need it to stop mommy's friend from hurting her," she said in a little voice that stopped Tim's heart on the spot.

Some days, this job really sucked.

"Get me a name, Bradford," Harper's voice demanded, ice-cold.

"Does mommy's friend come by often?" Stella nodded. "Can you tell me what he does?"

"He makes her bump into things and makes her cry."

He ignored the cursing in his ear. "Does he hurt you, too?"

"Only mommy."

"Has mommy tried to tell the police?"

Stella shrugged. "I don't know."

"What's your last name again, angel? Is it Sanders? Denvers? Converse? Bobbers?"

That finally got a short giggle out of the little girl. "No! It doesn't even sound like that! My name is Stella Marshall."

"And your mommy? Sandra? Lilly? Mary? Stephanie?"

Another tiny smile. "Rose."

He heard Nolan quietly request a search for the name and, a few seconds later, got the confirmation that police had been dispatched to the address a few times already. The family didn't live in Mid-Wilshire, but Tim knew a couple of guys from their precinct he'd be calling up as soon as his shift was over.

"I'll tell you what, Stella. You have been very nice this year, and you deserve the most beautiful presents, but Santa can't give you a gun. Instead, I'll give you a police uniform, do you know why?” She shook her head no. “Because when someone's in danger, you can call 911 anytime and they'll send some officers to help. Do you know 911?" Stella nodded. "You can call it anytime, okay? When you think mommy's in trouble because of her friend, you take the phone and you call- oh, do you remember what it was? I'm getting so old I'm starting to forget things!"

"911."

"That's right! You remember that, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Santa."

She hopped off his lap and quietly bounded down to the fence. Once her hand was securely slotted in her mom's again, Stella turned around and waved at him, a shy gesture he returned.

"Are you okay?" Chen asked when she was back at his side. He hadn't heard her approach, which meant he was off his game and he needed to snap out of it. He nodded. "There were no marks or bruises that I could see."

"Of course not."

"I'm sorry, Tim."

Her earnest eyes were a comfort he shied away from. "What for?" he said harshly. "I'm taking five, stay here."

He'd disappeared amidst groans of frustration from the queue before Lucy could call him back. He had a couple of phone calls to make.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Tim was four poneys, six iPads, and five puppies deep in the children's wish lists when he realized the level of disappointment would be at an all-time high in Los Angeles on Christmas morning this year. His sanity was slowly leaving the building, too. 

His eyes kept on straying towards his rookie to ground himself and remind himself he was an actual cop and there was a reason he was doing this. Lucy's cheerfulness remained unwavering while she talked with stressed-out parents and excited kids alike, only to switch back to what Tim had made sure was now her default mode as soon as she had a couple of seconds. He glanced at her as she scanned the food court beyond the line of people who waited for him.

Michelle wanted an unicorn, Dante wanted a surfboard, Jenna and Maddy each wanted a stuffed animal that seemed to be stuffed with nothing but electronics - if Maddy's painstakingly detailed description was accurate - and Javier wanted a chemistry kit. Monica… Well, Tim couldn't be sure: the little girl had been so intimidated she'd barely managed two words. He didn't blame her: the overdramatic set-up and the booming voice were a lot for such a young child. It was just… awkward and painful.

That was why, when Chen introduced his new customer, Tim was glad to see that Ally's eyes shone bright under her brown bangs. She climbed up in his lap and instantly planted her hazel eyes into his. She made it impossible to look away.

"Okay, Santa, I need your help."

"Oh, um, okay?" Tim stammered with his real voice. He coughed a little to cover up his slip-up, then he got back in character. "Okay."

"So, you know Tommy Wallace, right? Since you know all the kids in the whole world."

"Sure, Tommy, yeah."

"I like him. Like, like-like him." Oh, this was going to be excruciating.

"O-kay?" 

"I need you to make him like me. That's what I want for Christmas."

Excruciating. He'd called it.

"This is going to be a good one," Harper spoke in his ear. "Where's the popcorn when you need it?"

Chen was over by the fence with the kid's mom and the two weren't even pretending not to be listening in. Ally was a carbon copy of her mother, except the latter didn't have bangs. She did, however, have a wince on her face. Next to her, Lucy was grimacing as well.

"Sorry," she mouthed.

"How old did you say you were, Ally?"

"I'm seven."

"And are you sure you like this kid, uh, Tommy?"

"He helped me that one time I fell over while we were playing tag, and he gave me one of his cookies last week, so. Plus he's very sexy."

Tim choked on a mortified laugh. He could feel his eyes fighting to jump out of their sockets in panic. Everything in him was crying out to abort the mission; he had a bad guy to catch, dammit, he wasn't a- a- child whisperer or something.

But Ally was looking at him like he held all the answers and she'd placed all her hopes in him and- okay, maybe giving romantic advice to a 7-year-old very loosely qualified as the "to serve" part of the LAPD motto.

"Have you tried telling him you like him?"

Ally stared at him like he was stupid. "I can't do that."

"Why not?" Tim asked, so genuinely surprised he almost forgot his Santa impersonation.

"What if he says he doesn't like me?" Ally shot back on the same tone. When Tim only gaped, a little stumped, the girl's face crumbled and her shoulders slumped inwards.

This was probably what quicksand felt like: the more he tried to squirm out of it, the deeper he sank. Eyes darting down to the fence, neither Lucy nor Ally's mother seemed ready to throw him a rope. In fact, Lucy had gone back to subtly surveying their surroundings while Tim suffered. He couldn't quite resent her when he was the one who'd drilled into her that the job had to be done no matter what.

"Come on, what if you told him, and he realized what he's missing? From what you told me about him, it shows he likes you a little, doesn't it? Did Tommy share his cookies with anyone else?" he asked entreatingly.

"No."

"Well, there you have it. It shows he at least cares about you. It's worth a try, isn't it?" Ally still looked unconvinced. "Look, Santa can't make people do anything, and sometimes boys are thick so you need to spell things out for them."

"What if he laughs at me?"

"Then he wasn't as nice as you thought and you're better off without him, don't you think?"

She shrugged, eyes downcast. "I guess."

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you more, Ally."

"It's okay, you helped a little. I have to figure out how I'm going to tell Tommy, now. I think I'll ask Mandi; she's in the third grade, she's more mature."

"Right," Tim huffed out a laugh. "Have a merry Christmas, young lady, and good luck."

"Thank you. Merry Christmas to you, too, Santa."

Not 'Weird Mall Santa' this time; Tim supposed it counted as a win.

As the little girl left, a slow clap echoed in his ear. "Well done."

"Someone must have bumped me to the Naughty list," he grumbled in answer to Harper's praise. 

Chen joined him by his ornate chair, an impressed smile lighting up her face. So she'd been listening, then. "Still no sign of Sullivan," she reported. Then she laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Good job, Santa."

Definitely a win.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"I need Pete to show up _today_ ," Tim lamented over his meatball sub. 

"Tell me about it: my feet are killing me and my legs are so heavy and tired…" 

Chen munched on her fries as she attempted to relieve her aching limbs, kneading the striped hose that clung to her thighs, making her dress ride up in the process. Tim looked away, mouth dry. That's what you got for talking for hours on end. He sipped at his water.

"I can't believe the nerve of that last kid: who curses at Santa and calls him a jackass?" Lucy chuckled at his rhetorical question. "Do you want to get nothing but coal in your stockings for the rest of your life?"

"That's bad karma if I've ever seen it," she agreed.

Their eyes were still sweeping the area. Lunch time made it a little easier since a lot of people were currently sitting down and eating just like they were. 

Harper had informed him Lopez and West were on their way. It meant they'd officially wasted half a shift. The only upside he could see was that he and Chen were in the same boat. The same stinking, no-good boat of misery.

"I wanted to tell him off so badly, did you see how he looked me dead in the eyes?"

His rookie outright laughed this time. "What were you going to do? Tell him to shut up and give you fifty push-ups? You can't do that."

"It works with you," he pointed out.

"But I'm not a child. Do you think I'm a child, Tim?" she asked, her big brown eyes boring into his. 

He made himself look back purely so his eyes wouldn't stray and rake over her body. Lucy was Woman, there was not a doubt in Tim's mind.

"Definitely not." 

"Good," she concluded with a wicked smirk.

Tim's mouth went dry again. He took another sip of water that didn't help one iota.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Tell your boot I'll do her paperwork for an entire week if she takes a photo of you in your costume."

"I'm not listening to you."

Lopez had been in his ear for a grand total of ten minutes, which she'd spent exclusively demanding he bribed Chen so she'd bring back some blackmail material. Like that was a request he was ever going to relay.

He was too hot, too itchy, too cranky and too amped to withstand Angela's usual ribbing. He was actually eager to arrive back at the Christmas Wonderland, if only so it would give his colleagues a reason to stop pestering him. Only fifty more yards. He could do this.

"It's going to happen no matter what, you know. Just one picture."

"And where would she even keep her phone in that dress?" he snapped. 

He cursed himself before the sentence was even completely out of his mouth. Dammit. Perhaps fifty yards were too much, in the end. 

He looked at Chen out of the corner of his eye. Of course she was waiting for an explanation, eyebrows raised in a silent question. He was lucky she seemed more amused than angry.

"I mean- you don't have pockets," he mumbled, vaguely motioning towards her attire.

She made a noncommittal noise that got drowned out by West's stifled squeal of delight. Tim didn't blush. He didn't.

"I don't want to hear either of you again unless it's to say the suspect's finally showed up," he warned sharply.

"Are you in charge, then, Bradford?" Lopez replied, testy as ever.

"Of what happens inside my ear, you're damn right I am. Now shut up."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The afternoon was setting out to be busier but more boring in terms of what kids expected from Santa. Tim got quite a few star-struck clients, their little eyes going wide and never quite regaining their original size, and a lot of chatty ones.

"Hey, Tim, I think we have our guy on visual?" Lopez cut through a little boy who seemed to be enumerating all the toys in existence.

It didn't matter, because Tim wasn't listening anyway. He couldn't, not when over by the fence, the kid's father was chatting up Officer Chen with the subtlety of a charging bull. Worse, she was eating it up instead of doing her damn job; she kept on tucking the annoying piece of hair that had come out of her braid behind a pointy ear and laughing at his jokes. It was simply disgraceful that such unrefined techniques should work on a woman like her. 

"You think?" he coughed in order to cover up his question - just in case the kid suddenly decided to pay attention.

"Yeah, the guy's wearing a baseball cap, it's hard to formally ID him, but the height and build match Sullivan's: white male, 5'9, brown hair. Plus he looks sketchy as hell."

"How?"

"How many people would you say use the busy parking lot of a mall as a hiking trail? He's scrutinizing everyone that comes out, but not heads-on. He looks like a right weasel."

His beard hid the slight quirk of his mouth. Cogs whirred inside Tim's brain, evaluating their chances; if there was even one that they could take Sullivan into custody, they had to take it.

"Lucy," Tim called. 

He couldn't say whether it was force of habit or calling her by her first name that did it, but her head snapped around so fast he almost heard her neck crack. She took one look at him, only to immediately excuse herself to meet him by his chair, eyes sharp again.

"Santa? Are you done with our boy Tyler?" she asked with a smile, ruffling the kid's hair. Right, Tyler.

"Tyler gave me a very long list to choose from. I think he's good, aren't you, Tyler?" The four-year-old shrugged. "Alright, your dad's waiting for you. Go on, big guy."

Chen quickly took the child back to his father. Tim was pleased to notice she only gave the man a fleeting look and a polite, detached smile as she put up the sign that proclaimed Santa would be back in ten. She dashed back to him without so much as a backward glance.

"Sorry to interrupt your courtship," he couldn't help but point out. She raised a surprised eyebrow but said nothing. "Lopez and West think they might have our suspect."

"Think?" she frowned, an echo of his own question.

"Lopez described him as a sketchy weasel."

"Okay?"

"Looks like he could be our guy; the description fits anyway. Lopez, do you still have him?"

"Yeah, he's still discreetly staring at shoppers coming out of the shopping center."

"Try and establish contact," he said. "Let's keep him out of here, the place is packed and our man's unpredictable. Chen and I are on stand-by but we can't move right now, not if you've got the wrong guy, it'd blow our cover. And he might already be here, Chen probably missed him coming in with how busy she was making eyes at Don Juan."

"Excuse me?" she bit out, outraged. "I wasn't-"

"Not interested," he cut her off. "Now, Angela."

"Copy that. Let me notify command and the other units."

He listened in on Lopez's side of the conversation, pointedly avoiding Chen's gaze. She'd screwed up, he was furious, and she couldn't wait to give him a piece of her mind, he could read it in the stiff line of her body, but now wasn't the time for excuses.

"Okay, they're moving in," he informed her when their colleagues started closing in on the suspect. 

Next thing he knew, all hell was breaking loose in his earpiece.

"It's definitely our guy!" Lopez panted like she was running. "We're in pursuit, he's heading inside! Green shirt, dark joggers, the cap's gone. Jackson's behind him but the bastard's really fast!"

"Copy that, Chen and I are moving." He stood up and ripped off the hat and the fake beard. It meant losing contact with the others but - fucking finally. "The guy's coming in: green shirt, dark joggers, West is too slow," he explained for Chen.

"Is he armed?"

"No idea."

Lo and behold, outraged cries started rising up right outside the mall, followed by Jackson's shouts at Sullivan to stop and surrender. The order sent the crowd into a panic. It was every cop's worst nightmare: people shrieking as they ran in every direction, mall security yelling at them to calm down, turning the blustering group into a panicking horde.

Tim was moving before he'd even thought about it. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, he jumped over the fence and weaved through the terrorized crowd to get to the entrance in time to intercept the suspect.

He didn't. Sullivan burst through the doors like a bullet.

"Police! Freeze!" His own cry echoed West's, in vain.

There was no way pulling a firearm would help, especially if Sullivan himself was packing. The last thing they needed was to turn this crapshow into a hostage situation. 

West was still sprinting after their suspect, visibly struggling to keep up as Sullivan effortlessly dodged left and right to avoid bumping into anyone. Tim was still way too far, hindered by the fleeing crowd; it was like trying to run upstream in a thunderous river, the current slowing him down, inexorably pushing back.

"Tim, send him this way!" Chen yelled behind him.

Looking back even as he continued pressing forward, he saw her run back to the now deserted Christmas Wonderland. What the hell was she playing at?

"Do it!" she threw over her shoulder, like she knew he would question whatever she had planned.

So he did as she asked. Because she might get distracted by hot dads but she was still a good cop and he trusted her judgement.

"West!" he called out. The rookie's eyes searched the crowd until they landed on him. Tim motioned for him to take the side and flank Sullivan to redirect his trajectory towards Lucy. West nodded and got moving.

Considering the suspect's speed, it was the work of a few seconds until he was headed exactly where they wanted him to go, Tim trying to plan how he could jump the bastard and get this over with.

Glancing up at Chen, he saw her waiting by the giant Christmas tree that stood behind Santa's chair. Things clicked in Tim's mind right as she gave the tree a mighty push. It crumbled, colorful baubles of all sizes crashing in front of Sullivan. His clear path now obstructed by dozens of fast-moving objects, he was forced to slow down.

Tim didn't think. He dove and tackled the suspect to the ground, arms tight around his torso. Stunned, the guy didn't even try to free himself.

"Don't move."

"I'm innocent!"

"Then why did you run?"

Several things happened while he held onto Sullivan: he caught the end of Lopez's report declaring the suspect in custody as she joined them, West whipping handcuffs out of his jeans' pocket and Chen kneeling by their faces to keep Sullivan in place and let him back up. 

"You out of shape, Boot?" Tim puffed as West cuffed their man and started patting him down.

"What?" he heaved, indignant. "That guy could give Usain Bolt a run for his money! He's unarmed."

"I ran track in high school," Sullivan explained, barely winded.

"Yeah?" Tim glared. "I played football, could you tell?"

West started reading Sullivan his rights so Tim turned towards his rookie.

"Are you okay?" she asked skeptically. "That looked brutal."

"Nah," he replied with a pat to his padded belly. "This cushioned the fall."

Just then the sound of a camera shutter rang out and he whirled around. Lopez didn't even try to hide her phone.

"What? You don't have the beard on, or the hat: consider yourself lucky." She motioned towards the crowd of people that had started gathering around them. Several people were recording the scene. "I would've found photos on the internet anyway. At least I got your best angle."

Tim pursed his lips and huffed through his nose. "This is a losing battle, isn't it?"

"Oh, totally."

"Okay. Chen and I need to debrief with the chief of security and probably get yelled at," he said with a look at the pandemonium around them.

"We're taking him back to the station to process the arrest, we'll meet you back there for the ton of paperwork you'll have to fill."

"Officer Chen looks forward to it."

He turned away before she could protest.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Okay, what's the problem? What have I done that I deserve the silent treatment?" Chen blurted out once they were back in Tim's truck on their way to the station.

They'd both changed back into their police uniforms before the debrief, which had gone surprisingly well: sure, the Christmas Wonderland was a huge tree short, but the shopping center's director had pointed out they weren't exactly short on decorations, and he doubted anyone would complain. Not to mention the publicity Chen's little stunt would bring. All in all, it had been painless. Well, at least until Tim had seen fit to tell the chief of security exactly what he thought of his crisis management. Things had turned a little tense after that, but not saying anything would've done the man and everyone who walked through the mall's doors a disservice. He hoped the director would take his advice to heart and send his employees to a few training sessions.

The ride back to the station had been unusually quiet, but with Chen stewing in the passenger seat, he'd estimated she wouldn't last ten minutes. She'd caved in nine.

"Is it about what I did with the baubles? I'll handle the paperwork if it's what's bothering you."

"You dropped the ball." It was a problem and it needed to be addressed.

"I… dropped the ball? How?" she asked, clearly confused.

"You shirked your duties to flirt with that man."

There was a long beat of silence. "Excuse me?" she articulated very slowly, cold fury lacing her words. "Just when do you think that happened?"

"Tyler's dad."

"You have to be joking: I was engaging with the public-"

"Oh, you were engaging, alright," he scoffed.

Lucy gasped. "I was doing my job," she bit out. "I was great today. I did a really good job: I talked to everyone to ask how their shopping had gone and if they'd seen anything amiss, I was resourceful when I used the Christmas tree, and I always kept an eye out, both for Sullivan and for you."

"I don't need anyone to look out for me."

She threw her hands up. "Of course not. Whatever. I don't know what this is about, but I was doing my job. _Sir._ "

Funny how she managed to make what was supposed to be a mark of respect sound like "piece of shit." Now doubt was creeping in and it didn't feel good; maybe her hair had just slipped and she'd brushed it out of the way, and it was true she'd laughed with a lot of people by that fence, not just that slimy Fabio type.

Her anger hovered over them like storm clouds the entire ride back. It was even more chilling for how rare it was for her to lose her temper. Tim saved his hide and refrained from saying anything until he'd killed the engine, for some reason badly needing to make amends. 

"Chen," he called once she'd shot out of the car and slammed the door shut. Her face was blank as she looked at him. It felt wrong. Lucy's face was supposed to be lively, expressive. "You did good today," he admitted, contrite.

"You're damn right I did. I'll be inside doing the paperwork if you need me." 

Tim watched her stalk away, mesmerized by the intensity of her anger. And still, all he could see in his mind's eye was that damned skintight dress. Like after you've watched the sun for too long and can still see its phantom shape once you've closed your eyes, Lucy's shape and color remained behind Tim's eyelids.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The station's effervescence never died down, no matter how late it was. It was getting dark outside, the sky taking on orange colors that reminded him of Chen's elf outfit. Would everything forever remind him of that horrid costume? While the chatter outside the break room was going strong, inside, silence hung heavy and suffocating. Tim wasn't one to give in to pressure, but this was unbearable. He hated being responsible for Lucy's wrath.

He stood up from the table they were sharing, leaving his paperwork to refill his cup of coffee and escape the tension for a few seconds.

"Coffee?" 

"No, Sir, thank you." The little spasm in her cheek was too stiff to pass for a smile. Santa Claus must have been warmer in the North Pole.

Tim sat back down and sighed. There was no way around it if he ever wanted Chen to talk to him again. "I'm sorry," he started, chastened. "I must have misread the situation. Sullivan wasn't showing up, the beard felt awful, Tyler had been talking my ear off… I think I just really needed a break. I swear Pendleton was a walk in the park compared to this Christmas Wonderland." 

Lucy briefly glanced up at him, raising an unimpressed eyebrow for a second then looking back down at the report she was writing, hair obscuring half her face. It was all wavy from her braid, and it looked odd against her police uniform. It rubbed Tim the wrong way, how unresponsive she was: he pushed, she pushed back, that was how they worked, and now he'd messed up their dynamics. He wasn’t jealous, it definitely wasn’t that; he had a girlfriend so he couldn’t be, but seeing her with that slimeball had just rubbed him the wrong way.

"Don't pretend you didn't enjoy some of today," she mumbled. 

"I enjoyed that I didn't get peed on, does that count?"

She cracked and chuckled. Once. Twice. Soon enough, her pen dropped to the table and she buried her face in her hands as she rode out the fit of laughter. The sight of her shaking shoulders, the sound of her little hiccups made something in Tim's chest bloom, like the world was righting itself. When she dropped her hands, her bright smile nailed him to his chair.

"I would have liked to see that," she teased, tears of laughter pooling in her eyes.

He grinned and shook his head. "I should write you up for insubordination just for that."

"Oh, come on, it's been a long day."

"Yeah. I miss the shop," he sighed wistfully. "And you're right: some of those kids were alright."

"You're not the Grinch you pretend to be," Chen said confidently. "You were a great Santa."

Tim remembered when he used to find his rookie's ability to see the positive in every situation annoying, a weakness that showed how green she was. He'd decided such naivety couldn't endure in a police officer, especially not in one he trained, so he'd set out to snuff out that light of hers.

Months later, it was obvious he'd underestimated how strong Chen's bleeding heart beat. Tim had more or less given up on that particular mission. More than that, he saw firsthand how she turned it into a strength, proved all his predictions wrong time and again. Lucy Chen was profoundly human and it made her a better cop.

In some instances, though, he still found the trait baffling.

"I was a great Santa because I just sat there and waited? Right."

"You talked to some of the kids, to the ones who needed it. It's very you," she nodded sagely.

"Very me? What- No, you know what? Forget I asked."

"You're like a giant s'more, Tim Bradford: hard on the outside, but all sweet and gooey inside."

Tim refused to consider what she'd just said, only shook his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course not," Chen smiled. She picked up her pen and resumed writing, so he did the same. It lasted all of five seconds, because this woman didn't know when to leave well enough alone. "Don't you want children of your own?" she asked softly, like she knew she was treading dangerous waters.

"That's a very personal question, Boot."

"You're right," she frowned then looked down. "Sorry, you don't have to answer that, of course."

He got back to his paperwork himself and found he couldn't concentrate. Did he want children? He'd barely discussed the possibility with Isabel, busy as they'd been with their respective careers, and then her addiction had abruptly pulled the brakes on any plans they might have had for their future.

Besides, with the role model he'd been saddled with, it was probably safer if he didn't perpetuate the legacy and scar some poor kid for life. Intellectually, he knew he would never hurt a child. The fear ran deep, though. He didn't want to be that man; it terrified him.

"I'm not sure I'm cut out to be a father," he summed up lowly, eyes glued to his report. 

Out of his periphery, he saw Chen's head snap up. He was as surprised as she was that he'd followed up at all. She just had that way of pulling your deepest, darkest secrets out of you. She could have kept to the family tradition and become a shrink; she would have been phenomenal.

He heard her slowly exhale through her nose. "What are you going to do about Stella?"

He took the non-sequitur in stride, the thought of the little girl pinching at his heart. "I did what I could: called in a favor from a guy in Southwest, and I called an old colleague of Rachel's I've met a couple of times to let him know about the situation."

"And you gave her an out."

"I did?" he frowned.

"Ho, ho, ho, you call 911, Stella," Lucy said in the saddest imitation of Santa's voice he'd ever heard. Tim's eyes widened in horror.

"That's the most horrible Santa voice that's ever existed."

"Shut up," she laughed before growing serious again. A small, proud smile stretched across her mouth. "You'd be a good father, Tim."

"I'm a good cop, there's a difference. I'm just doing my job." 

He hated the idea of Lucy building him up in her head; the fall would only hurt more once she realized how flawed he truly was; it would hurt her because she'd feel let down, and for some reason, Lucy Chen's opinion of him mattered.

"You're a good cop because you're a good man," she persisted, looking so absolutely certain she was speaking the truth. "You don't have to advertise it for it to be true. I've seen it, can't unsee it."

She was as stubborn as he was and there was only so far he was willing to go to convince her he wasn't the knight in shining armor she seemed to think he was, so he just stared at her disapprovingly. She stared right back, not intimidated at all. Then she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, an echo of her gesture at the mall earlier.

"Lucy, I really am sorry, about earlier," he said ruefully, his eyes dropping to the table. "I shouldn't have questioned your commitment. I overreacted."

"Yeah, you did. I wonder why." 

Lucy must have gathered from how blank his face was that she wouldn't get a response and she stood up with a little huff, rounding the table to throw away her paper cup.

She was right behind him when his phone beeped and lit up by his arm, which meant she had a front row seat to the notification that popped up on the screen and declared his child-sized police officer costume on its way. He pounced on the device and turned it over, but the harm was done. He scowled as hard he could to cover up the stupid flush that tried to crawl up his neck.

She lingered by his elbow; Tim deliberately didn't look at his rookie and set out to putting the finishing touches to his report. He silently begged any deity that would listen to prevent her from commenting. It worked - kind of.

Chen pressed both hands flat on the table and hummed an ascending sound. Her fingertips were so close he swore he could feel them on his skin, and her long hair tickled his upper arm as she slowly leaned down, stopping when her lips were level with his ear.

"You're a good man, Tim Bradford," she whispered, just a little smug.

His pulse quickened as her breath fanned warm against the shell of his ear, but of course he wouldn't give her the satisfaction of reacting; he simply pretended he hadn't heard her. She made another noise at the back of her throat and pushed away from the table. She swiped the clipboard with her forms on it and turned to leave.

"I'm done with mine," she said lightly. "See you tomorrow, Santa."

There was a self-satisfied spring in her step as she skipped out of the room. He noticed because, once again, he watched her walk away.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Tim strode into the break room like he owned the place. Truly, he would have made a peacock jealous with his self-assured strut. There were gasps, bursts of laughter and catcalls around him but he paid them no mind, absolutely confident in how amazing he looked.

"That's the spirit, Bradford!" Sergeant Grey called with glee.

He snatched a red and green paper cup from a table to his left and gave it a sniff as his colleagues paparazzied the hell out of him. Eggnog, alright, why not; Tim pulled his white beard down under his chin and took a swig.

"Wow, I am shocked." He turned around to face Lopez, an eyebrow raised in question. "Considering how much you whined when you were assigned the Sullivan case, I thought you'd only be too happy for your carnival days to be over."

"Are you enjoying this?" he chuckled.

"Oh, immensely," she grinned, toasting him with her own drink. "Give me a twirl."

"Don't push it, Angela."

"Looking slick, Officer Bradford," Chen cut in, her own grin a touch nicer than Lopez's. "I see your outfit got an upgrade."

This time, he did give them a slow twirl so they could admire how lush the Santa costume was. It could be, considering the hefty sum he'd paid for it - a week before Christmas, right when all the offices in town had to be throwing Christmas parties just like this one, he'd known it wouldn't come cheap. Especially not when he'd been aiming for finer quality than what he'd had to endure because of Pete Sullivan. He was boiling under the heavy velvet, but it was worth it.

"I figured if I was going to keep on finding a picture of me dressed as Santa Claus plastered all over my locker every damn morning for the next ten years, it might as well be a good picture, not a blurry one taken by a shoddy photographer."

"You wound me." 

"Hey, Bradford!" Tim cocked his head to the right to acknowledge Smitty's call. "Do I get to sit in your lap and tell you what I want for Christmas?"

"You can try," he replied, the warning clear in his voice, eliciting snickers across the room. "A little reindeer told me you're on the naughty list, though. Looks like you're out of luck, man."

"Don't bother coming down my chimney, Santa, I will light a fire under your ass."

"Duly noted," Tim toasted him.

After a quick selfie (more like after a dozen) which he bore with grace no matter what she said, Lopez wandered away to get something to eat and find someone else to annoy, leaving Tim alone with Lucy.

"We would've been a real hit if I'd worn my own costume, I'm sorry I didn't think about it," she quipped.

"I'm not," he shot back. Then his brain caught up with his mouth. "That color- it was- bad."

What was he supposed to say? 'That dress was too tight'? Or worse, 'I couldn't handle you in it and I've been thinking about that for a week'? It was unthinkable. His awareness of her had grown in a way that was becoming problematic with how natural it felt. Especially considering his relationship status.

"Thanks. Complimentary, as always," she said with an eyeroll. "So, how do you like our very own Christmas Wonderland?"

The LAPD couldn't afford the same decorations as a shopping center, but the fairy lights, the plastic greenery and the few garlands were festive enough. Someone had pushed the desks against the walls and thrown paper tablecloths over them, the candy canes and Christmas wreaths pattern something out of Tim's nightmares, but it fit the theme and his outfit. It was taking accessorizing to a whole new level.

"It's got nothing on the North Pole, that's for sure." 

"Is the Santa suit going to become a staple in your wardrobe? Should I be worried?"

"Nah. I figured if I owned it, the pranks would end. And let it be a lesson to you: the truth is, there was no reason to make me go undercover as Santa - or you as Santa's helper. We could have been any shopper eating a donut in the food court. I suspect someone wanted to take me down a peg or two."

"And so by showing up like this, you're showing them they failed." 

"Spectacularly," he rejoiced, chugging the last of his eggnog. His shit-eating grin got a hearty chuckle out of his boot. "I stopped by Stella's house this afternoon." Chen gaped a little so he shrugged. "I figured I had the suit, I had the police uniform, why not take advantage of it."

"How did it go?"

How could he sum it up without sounding corny? Because the bottom line was, he’d shown up at a stranger’s house in a Santa Claus costume to make a little girl happy. He couldn’t exactly say it like that: it’d make Chen way too smug.

Stella's mom had been surprised to say the least. Apprehensive, too, until he'd whipped out his badge. That had made her hunch in on herself like so many victims of domestic violence he'd seen before, like it was their fault they were being abused, so he'd explained that they knew each other, after a fashion, and what he was doing at her door. She'd gone back to being surprised, but she'd called out for Stella anyway.

The little girl had frozen when she'd spotted him and her jaw had all but hit the floor, eyes lighting up. Now that was a more standard reaction to seeing Santa Claus. Tim had been pleased; wearing the outfit in public was worth it. He'd delivered his package, wrapped as carefully as he'd managed with the meagre supplies he had at home, and he'd reminded Stella of their conversation. The little girl had given an enthusiastic nod and thrown her arms around him, squeezing with all her strength. If Tim had been sentimental, he might have teared up. Good thing he wasn't.

When Stella had bounded back into the house, Tim had cleared his throat - to get back to his real voice, that was all - and given Stella's mom his card should the need arise. His personal number was scribbled on the back, just in case.

Then he'd wished her a merry Christmas, told her to take care of herself and Stella, and he'd left.

"It went well, I think," he answered. "Stella seemed to like her present."

Chen silently stared up at him from under long eyelashes. The lack of further questioning was unexpected and unsettling, but no more than the mischief that slowly bloomed across her face, stretching her mouth into a wide smile. Her lips were painted an appropriate Christmas red for the occasion. 

Lucy took a half step closer. Tim's stomach did a floppy thing he wasn't ready for, but the instinctive step back he tried to take only made him bump into the desk behind him. Something funny must have shown on his face because his rookie bit back a grin, teeth sinking into a scarlet lip he made a conscious effort not to look at.

Then he felt it; the fleeting touch of her fingertips along his knuckles, a barely there, caressing stroke. Tim's eyes bugged out of their sockets but he didn't snatch his hand back, which would be the most surprising part of it once he let himself think about it.

"Chen, what-"

She dropped her hand without a comment but stood her ground, blinking not-so-innocent brown eyes at him. 

"Good Santa. Good man."

"You're romanticizing it," he said, curt.

"Mmh. You must be right, Sir, of course."

She smiled that private smile again. It was unnerving. Tim didn't even understand the compulsion he'd had to tell her about his errand; he was doing a pretty poor job of making sure his rookie knew he was fallible. Maybe he'd even been aiming for the opposite here. The contradiction was upsetting.

"I'm going to go get changed and head home, I think," he grumbled, putting distance between them and heading for the door.

"Are you running from your own kindness?" she asked after him, sarcastic. He walked faster. "Oh my God, you are!"

He stopped in the doorway when he felt a tug on the hem of his sleeve, turning towards her with a biting retort on the tip of his tongue when someone brushed past them into the room.

“Mistletoe!” they coughed. West was dressed to the nines tonight, more red carpet than office Christmas party. He sneaked in between their colleagues until he was by his T.O.’s side. He whispered in her ear with a shit-eating grin that split his face in two. It made Tim want to shout him down until he stopped.

“Ho, ho, ho, look who’s under the mistletoe,” Lopez gleefully yelled at the top of her lungs. 

Tim’s too-warm body suddenly went ice cold. He rigidly craned his neck up, only to confirm the presence of a sizable ball of greenery adorned with translucent white berries, strung up above the door with a red bow. When he looked back down, he hoped his face conveyed how pissed off he was. Everyone was staring at them like a bunch of hyenas, equal parts eager and mocking.

“You a botanist, now, Lopez?” he tried to deflect. “Congratulations.”

“Shut up, you know what you have to do.”

“I don’t have to do a damn thing,” he griped.

“Yeah, I don’t know what it was like in whatever lab they assembled your parts in, but in the land of human people, when you’re under the mistletoe with someone, you kiss that someone.”

“Sounds like sexual harassment in the workplace to me.”

He’d never seen so many people roll their eyes at the same time before. He loathed every last one of them.

He was Chen’s training officer, he was in a position of authority he shouldn’t abuse, he was already in a relationship with someone he cared about… He shouldn’t, couldn’t want to kiss her. It was confusing enough that he wasn’t appalled at the idea. Having that particular epiphany in front of a room full of riveted gossips who were spying on your every reaction was worse.

He was wondering how to tell everyone to go to hell when Chen turned her big brown eyes on him. Were they always this dark? There was the barest hint of a smile on her face. It was so faint he got the absurd urge to touch the corner of her lips to see if he was only imagining it. He suddenly found her impossible to read, like she’d finally figured how to activate her emotional shield out of the field as well. Of course it had to be at the exact moment he needed to know what was in her head. She shuffled closer until only his padded belly stood between them.

“Go ahead,” she said, pitching her voice so no one else could hear. Her smile grew a bit wicked. “I promise I won’t sue.”

The key probably was not to overthink it, so Tim grudgingly leaned over and pecked her cheek, so quick he hardly touched her at all. Straightening up amidst disappointed boos and jeers, he hurried to step away - only to be yanked back in so fast he had to grab onto Chen's shoulders not to topple them both to the floor.

Then he realized she was the one who’d wrapped a hand around his belt buckle, keeping him so close they were breathing the same air. He didn't panic; there was no reason to. Really. 

"Kiss her, Santa!" someone hollered. He'd find out who later and they would pay.

Tim Bradford had never been pressured into doing a single thing in his life and he certainly wasn't starting now. Not with Lucy, not like that in front of everyone; it was all wrong. For her part, though, she looked serene.

"What are you doing?" he whispered at her.

"Come on, Santa. Kiss me," she said softly. "It's tradition, after all."

"Tradition, right," he huffed.

But Tim indulged Lucy’s whim and threw himself off a ledge. Many cheesy clichés came to mind when he touched his lips to hers; he flat-out refused to acknowledge any of them: not his racing heart, not the fireworks behind his eyelids, not his nerve endings on fire, not his hands itching to touch her. Yet his mouth lingered on Lucy's, the chaste kiss both casual and momentous.

Pulling away felt wrong. Not pulling away would have been unthinkable. her eyes fluttered open, sending a shiver down his spine, and he got an unwelcome case of tunnel vision as her tongue darted out to lick her lips, so bad he almost leaned over again to see what they tasted like now. Instead, he made himself take a deep breath in and a large step back; her fingers slipped from his belt.

Tim’s brain eventually came back online, only to see their audience immortalizing the moment en masse, phones in hand as they hooted like this was some steamy peep show. They cheapened the experience and he hated them for it. On the other hand, he wasn’t even supposed to care about this kiss at all. He very much did.

“You okay?” Lucy asked, a little breathless. The playfulness was gone, replaced with an earnestness he couldn’t cope with right then. 

“Yeah, of course,” he nodded with a frown.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? It was just a kiss.” He averted his eyes the second Lucy’s turned sorrowful, fast enough that he could pretend he’d never seen the expression in the first place. “This better not end up on the internet! I’ve got to go: toys to make, a sleigh to prepare,” he shouted to the assembled crowd. It shouted something back that he didn’t care to decipher, eager as he was to hightail it out of the precinct.

He spared a glance for his rookie, who seemed frozen in place. Good: it made it easier to bolt unencumbered and have his little crisis by himself. 

Changing back into his clothes was the work of a few minutes which Tim spent them concentrating on folding the heavy cape and the pants right so they’d fit into his bag - anything to take his mind off of the expression on Chen’s face before he’d left. It was one thing to suddenly, maybe, feel something more than he should; it was another to see these feelings reflected back at him. It might have been time to panic after all.

Of course the source of his distress was waiting for him when he came out of the locker room. He sighed: this woman was like a dog with a bone. It had to be payback from a higher power for being the same, a taste of his own medicine, in a way. It made her a great cop but an impossible woman.

"What do you want?"

"I see Santa Claus is gone for good and Officer Bradford's back," she said, a bittersweet jibe.

"I need to get home, Kojo's waiting to be let out."

"Of course, yeah, um. Of course."

Going by the stuttering and the frown on her face, the brusque harshness he was opposing her concern seemed to upset her. He took no pride in it; he was only being an ass (some would argue his usual self) to salvage the status quo. 

At peace with the fact that he was doing the right thing to restore their relationship to its perfectly satisfying, professional nature, he shouldered his bag and wordlessly pushed past her.

"Tim, wait."

He stopped, but he wasn't going to turn around: her trembling voice sounded distraught and he doubted he could stand the vulnerability that had to be painted all over her face. He didn't even have to try very hard to picture it. 

He turned around anyway.

He'd been right, of course. Even discounting his superior observational skills, after so long spent in her company, he knew Lucy like the back of his hand. Eyes downcast and downturned mouth, a little line between her eyebrows, she was minutely shaking her head and fiddling with her fingers like she always did when something was bothering her.

"Um, I- I-" she said haltingly, but nothing else came out.

She sank her teeth into her lower lip - it was crazy that he knew how it felt under his mouth, now - and looked down, her hair cascading over her shoulders. Damn it. He should have pretended he hadn't heard her and left. Now he was just standing there watching her squirm and finding her lovely: that was so far from the status quo.

Then she looked at him from under her eyelashes.

"Tim…" she breathed out on an exhale. 

It did him in.

He crossed the distance in two long strides, just slow enough for Lucy to look up and turn pleading brown eyes on him. He slid careful hands around her slender neck, letting his thumbs stroke over soft, warm skin.

Tim leaned over as Lucy rocked up on her toes, her eyelids fluttering closed. This kiss was different; he took his time exploring the inviting mouth, and he delighted in every sweet, wet drag of her lips on his. It was strange, the gut-wrenching culpability coupled with the pure, undiluted elation of holding her.

He was going to pull away when one of Lucy's hands encircled his wrist, firmly keeping him in place. He stayed right where he was, extending the self-indulgent moment a few seconds more, enjoying the unexpected closeness. 

In the end, only the need to breathe separated them. Tim laid his forehead on Lucy's as she released his wrist in a slow caress.

"Merry Christmas?" she whispered, making him huff out a laugh.

"Merry Christmas, Boot."

**Author's Note:**

> I hate open endings, you guys, and I'm sorry I wrote one.


End file.
